Firefighter Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters 3)

It worked. Griff scarcely dared to believe it, but his inner beasts subsided, drawn back into disgruntled alignment by the overpowering instincts inspired by their mate. His lion still paced and snarled, and his eagle still mantled its wings and stared at the cat balefully, but at least he was no longer being tugged apart by them.

Griff let out a shaky breath, painfully straightening his cramped fingers. He rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening his knotted muscles before he restarted the car. He pulled back onto the road, relieved and astonished that he’d managed to avoid a full-blown fight between his inner beasts.

If this is the effect Hayley has on them, maybe I should tell her what she means to me. Sooner rather than later.

You won’t, though, growled his lion, right at the back of his mind. You agree with me.

Griff made a noncommittal noise, unwilling to provoke his eagle by siding too clearly with his lion. But it was true. Regardless of his own personal situation, he had to think of what was best for Hayley. And what was best for Danny.

From Danny’s endearing, heartbreaking eagerness to win his approval, Griff was certain that the little boy had never had any sort of father figure at all. Hayley and Danny had been alone together, just the two of them, for a very long time. But for all their obvious devotion to each other, there was still a secret, hungry hole in Danny’s soul. Griff longed to fill that gap, nearly as much as he ached to heal the matching wound in Hayley’s heart.

But if he did…he’d just be setting them up for future pain.

Griff set his shoulders, pushing his impossible longings into a small, sealed box in the back of his mind. He refused to let the bleak reality of the future spoil the joy of meeting his mate. He made himself concentrate on what he could do for his mate and her son, rather than what he wanted to do.

I can be Hayley’s friend. I can be Danny’s alpha. I can help them, support them, take care of them…at least for now. That’s more than I ever thought I’d have. It’ll have to be enough.

His eagle and his lion both bristled in protest, but he overruled their objections. Hayley and Danny had already been abandoned once. He was not going to break both their hearts again.

That would make him no better than Hayley’s ex.

If we ever meet this Reiner Ljonsson

, his lion and his eagle snarled as one, we shall make him suffer for what he did to our mate and her son.

“At least we all agree on something,” Griff said under his breath as he pulled into his driveway.

His house was just a small semi-detached—a duplex, Hayley would call it he thought with a small smile, remembering her American accent—but it was still his. His nest, his den. Both his lion and his eagle relaxed at being back in their own territory again.

He could tell immediately that John was already home, both from the enormous pair of muddy boots neatly lined up on the doormat and the sound of humming emanating from the kitchen. Not that most people would have recognized the peculiar sound as “humming.” It sounded more like a couple of bassoons having a relaxed, friendly conversation, with occasional comments from a passing humpback whale.

Griff grinned, recognizing the melody. John was cleaning.

A lot of people hummed as they did chores. With John, you could tell exactly which chores he was doing…though not what else he was doing at the same time.

Griff poked his head round the door of the kitchen. Sure enough, John was washing the dishes. This meant that he was standing at the stove, stirring a pan and humming, while six feet behind him a floating sphere of water industriously rinsed off a stack of plates in the sink.

Living with a sea dragon certainly had its moments.

“You know,” Griff observed, leaning on the door frame, “we do have a dishwasher.”

*The dishwasher barks.* John’s deep mental voice echoed in Griff’s head. The enormous shifter didn’t pause in his humming, maintaining his control over the water washing the plates. *Its tone of voice is too abrupt. I prefer to ask the water politely.*

Griff had never worked out why his two inner animals meant mythic shifters like John could communicate with him telepathically, but it came in handy. Of course, it would be even handier if he could actually talk back that way, but he couldn’t even send to fellow lions or eagles. If he tried, his own mental voice just came out as a doubled, incoherent jumble, rather like two people screaming in an echoing cavern.

“Well, I guess I should be grateful you at least approve of the shower’s manners,” he said out loud. “Not to mention the toilet. Sorry I’m late, I got delayed. Everything under control?”

*I believe I have correctly burned the fish this time.* John’s telepathic tone radiated pleased accomplishment. *It is now black on the outside, but the machine in the ceiling has not yet screeched at me. This is the way humans like it, yes?*

“Smells done to me.” Well past done, actually, but at least John hadn’t set off the smoke detector. By John’s standards, that counted as a culinary triumph. Griff clapped him on the shoulder, having to reach up to do so. “Good job. It all looks delicious.”

This was a slight exaggeration, but Griff liked to be encouraging. And John had come on amazingly, considering he’d only a year ago he’d been new to the entire idea of “cooking.” Or indeed, “fire.” Most of John’s people spent their entire life in sea dragon form, at the bottom of the ocean. Much of life on land was utterly foreign to them.

Like the difference between “fruit” and “vegetables,” Griff thought to himself, eying a simmering pot of what smelled suspiciously like a mixture of diced carrot and apple. Oh well, at least it has to be more edible than that banana-tuna casserole last week.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked John, starting to set the table. “What happened with that car crash I sent you all to?”

The water churning in the sink fell still as John stopped humming. His broad forehead creased thoughtfully. “I had an argument with a cloud,” he said out loud in his deep, oddly-accented voice. “The water had travelled unusually far, and wished to continue its journey. But I managed to persuade it to taste English soil in the end.”